Neighbors
by a failed writer
Summary: Kurosaki Ichigo: internationally renowned chef, married, neighbor, falling in love with his neighbor. Abarai Rukia: owner of the prominent IT Group, married, neighbor, trying to fall out of love with her neighbor before it began. A commonality: time was never on their side.
1. Chapter 1

**a brief glance, a fleeting smile**

* * *

Abarai Rukia scrolled through the news on her iPad as she heard the shuffling of feet, boxes being moved, and objects being transported into the next apartment unit right next to theirs.

Rukia breathed a sigh of relief as she took off her tan reading glasses. Renji, her husband of four years, was on a business trip with her brother and so she would have the place all to herself. She was actually looking forward to her alone time. Not because she didn't love Renji – they were crazy in love – but there were times when she needed her own space and time, without anyone, her husband included, invading them. Those times of peace and solitude were the times she cherished the most. To not be bothered was part of the beauty of life.

"Nya."

Rukia looked down and saw that her precious white cat, Chappy, was demanding food. She gracefully jumped down from her white cushioned bar stools and picked up Chappy, snuggling her, and was rewarded with Chappy purring contently.

Knowing she didn't have much time to spare, she put a half cup of dry kibble into Chappy's trusted clear food bowl. Chappy nudged her soft head onto Rukia's leg once more, her way saying "took you long enough, human, but thank you," and sauntered towards her food bowl.

Rukia softly giggled at her sassy cat. After pulling her hair into a messy top knot bun, she grabbed her light gray backpack, and keys and walked out of her three-bedroom apartment.

She always had anxiety when she had to leave her beloved kitty. "Bye Chappy."

As she locked her door, she noticed a flash of orange in her peripheral vision. Deciding to ignore the flame, she turned around and walked towards the elevator. Her new neighbor's door was opened, but Rukia didn't really care who the new tenants are – just as long as they were not obnoxious, shady, or serial killers, then she was sure they could all live in harmony.

Rukia briefly stopped as she heard a no-nonsense, hardened voice yet laced with hidden undertones of warmth, talking to someone. Most likely a confused mover.

"Yeah, place that box here. No, on your left. That's your right. Gah! Here let me do it."

Rukia wasn't sure why, but she nodded, approving of the man's self-approach to moving.

 _Shows that you're not a lazy ass._

Just as Rukia walked pass her new neighbor's door, he came out to help the other movers.

The two walked in a half circle, desperately avoiding bumping into each other. They didn't know it, but both hated contact, especially with strangers.

The neighbor, Rukia noticed, was probably a foot or two taller than her, so she flickered her eyes upwards to make eye contact with him. And when she did, she noticed that the flash of orange was his hair. And now she was trying extra hard to fight her current desires of chortling to death. But she shouldn't be surprised anymore – colors in a crayon box extended to eye colors and hair colors. Even so, this man's hair was really orange. Very orange. A bright orange.

Meanwhile, Ichigo stood in front of who he presumed to be his new neighbor: very short, thin, almost frail looking, arms full of tattoos, the left had an intricate half sleeve design while the right was littered with medium to large tattoos. But it wasn't his neighbor's body art that he was paying attention to, but rather, he was staring at her simple gold rose wedding band. He simply stood there, fixated on her ring finger, an unknown feeling seeping into his heart.

Rukia kept her neutral gaze on her neighbor. He was quite good looking and judging by his silver wedding ring, he and his partner most likely moved to Tokyo for their future. She wasn't sure why he was so transfixed with her tattoos, though.

If she continued to let her neighbor glue his eyes onto her skin, then she would be late to work.

Clearing her throat, she said, "Hello, you must be our new neighbor. I'm Abarai Rukia; nice to meet you and welcome."

Ichigo's spellbound quickly cured itself as he heard her voice. He was surprised that such a deep, posh voice emitted from such a pint-sized body.

"Yeah," Ichigo started, his trademark scowl forming. "My wife and I are just moving in. I'm Kurosaki Ichigo by the way. Nice to meet you."

The two shook hands and both felt an inexplicable jolt of electricity as soon as their hands made contact.

Rukia was sure neither one of them were robots nor cyborgs.

Ichigo wasn't sure what to think of their contact, but it wasn't unwelcomed.

Rukia looked around and noticed that his wife wasn't around.

As if reading her mind, Ichigo answered, "She had to immediately return to work after our honeymoon. She's in South Korea right now, so I told her to meet me here when her job was completed. Our lease begins today so I decided to make the jump and finish unpacking before she arrives."

Rukia nodded. "So newlyweds?"

Ichigo simply nodded in return. He was never that talkative and him engaging in small talk was highly uncharacteristic for him.

What he didn't know was that Rukia was the same. She wasn't one to initiate conversations, but here she was, breaking her own mold. Renji would be proud of her.

Rukia gave him a small, awkward smile. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Kurosaki-kun. I'll bake you and your wife an apple pie later. I need to get to work before they fire me." She chuckled. As if someone can fire the boss. _They might form a rebellion, though._

She smiled at her inner joke, something that was lost on Ichigo. Thinking that she was making a joke at his expense, Ichigo scowled at her.

"I hope the move goes smoothly. Let me know if you need help. I usually come home at 6pm or 8pm, depending on the projects and meetings I have lined up for the day. You have a good day, Kurosaki-kun." Rukia bowed and elegantly walked towards the elevator, her cognac loafers softly clacking on the shiny marble floors.

Rukia pushed the elevator button and stared at the numbers, waiting for number 5 to light up. She wasn't sure why – it wasn't as if she felt compelled to – but she made a full turn to briefly look at Ichigo again and saw that he was loading more boxes.

The elevators dinged, signaling Rukia to enter. Without another glance, she entered and the elevator doors were slowly closing. She saw Ichigo looking up from his boxes and stared at her just as the elevator doors were closing and she could've sworn that he gave her a small smile.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Ichigo unloaded several boxes into his unit: a spacious two-bedroom apartment. It was an ideal place for them. Orihime would love this place. While the architecture was charming, the atmosphere seemed homey and not as pretentious as the other places he visited.

It was going to take him maybe two days to finish unpacking and setting up their apartment. Then he had to see how the construction of his restaurant was doing. The grand opening was in a month. He was the one who suggested moving to Tokyo. It was time for him to open his flagship restaurant: _Zangestu_. While awards weren't indicative of anything, he was ready to be a part of Japan's always-present, accelerating food institution through his own visions.

As usual, Orihime was supportive of him and said that she would go anywhere he went. Just as long as they were together.

He wore a half smile on his face. That was just like Orihime, more considerate and accommodating to his own desires than her own. At times he felt selfish, but he had his own goals and he wanted to fulfill them.

He started dating Orihime during their first year in college, but he decided to drop out of his biomechanical program and college all together when he started to work at a sushi restaurant, where he fell in love with the art of creating things with your bare hands and giving – selling them, really – to others and making them feel satisfied and content.

Then again, it could be that his mother was a great cook and he wanted to commemorate her memories into his current profession.

He scratched his orange mop and before he was able to stop himself, he randomly called out a name –

One that was _not_ his wife's name.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Rukia was sitting in her office, full of negative space – a stark contrast to her apartment mostly because Renji loved interior design and postmodern art. Sipping her coffee, Rukia began reading reports from the IT Research Lab and jotted down notes in her black journal.

She established and opened the IT Group six years ago. Immediately following her graduation and obtaining her doctorate in both engineering and interdisciplinary information studies, she decided to take a chance and pursue her dream: a research lab where she was able to design, innovate, create, and research the interconnections/intra-workings of science and technology. Most importantly, she was able to collaborate with the people she became friends with since college. It was a taboo to work in an environment full of friends, but she trusted her friends with her life.

Renji had been supportive of her since she told him of her dreams in high school. The two were on and off during their senior year in high school and although they were admitted to different universities, they entered a stable relationship since their undergraduate years.

They were together for thirteen years, including their four years of marriage.

She smiled. Often times when she was reflecting on her relationship with Renji, she would find herself smiling at no one and at nothing in particular. Renji understood her better than anyone else. And yet at time, she always contradicted herself – because she's only been with one person – Renji. Was it _correct_ to assume that a person she's known for majority of her life was the lone person who understood her? Because she didn't provide additional spaces for others to understand her?

Rukia closed her eyes. After a few seconds of temporary darkness, she opened her eyes and blinked slowly. Whatever her thoughts may be drifting to, she had to end them now before they would come back and perpetrate avoidable pain and suffering.

She sighed. If only she could predict her future.

She resumed taking notes, happy to distract herself from her near inner aggression –

She wasn't sure why she wrote that _person's_ name down.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

She was at his door at approximately 8pm, with a homemade apple pie in hand. He invited her in with a scowl-like smile on his face and as promised she helped him moved his things in accordance to his wishes.

After two hours, they ate pie and conversed as if they were longtime, separated friends desperately trying catch up with each other. In reality though, they were trying to get to know each other more through polite banter. As Rukia inwardly noted, they were being overly polite and careful in their language. Ichigo then boiled some water in the kettle for some tea.

Once the conversation became more about their spouses, a topic that both wish they desperately wanted to evade yet both couldn't deny that they were interested in the other's respective spouse. The need to wanting to know a stranger's life was like an odd, unfathomable human desire.

As such, they shared their revelations about falling in love and marriage. And life.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

if only they paid attention to the burner.

* * *

 **End notes:**

 **Not as dialogue driven as my previous writing pieces. This story is influenced by Wong kar-wai's visionary film,** ** _In the Mood for Love_** **. I like the slow burning process: nothing substantial happens until the fire begins and spreads (AKA the art of long windedness). In keeping up with the angsty stories that are being uploaded, I am quite certain there is no way this story will have a happy ending.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Reuploaded due to a technical error. Thanks NieveDrop for informing me. The anomalies of (post)modern architecture.**

* * *

 **the burn of cigarettes**

* * *

The sounds of hands rapidly pressing on a keyboard could be heard on a Saturday afternoon. Hands relented as a pair of violet eyes, adorned by thick frames, scrutinized the words projected on the glaring screen. After pushing the 'Backspace Key' several times and re/'Entering' different – the same – words for several seconds, Rukia gradually decreased the pacing of her key tapping. She slumped in her chair and stretched her arms though her eyes never strayed from the screen.

Rukia was working on an article that attempted to further explain the animal-nature-object assemblage and connecting it in a technological framework. She didn't really want to write it, but her former dissertation advisor had asked her to contribute to an upcoming academic journal that focuses on science and technology.

She technically couldn't say no. Or maybe she didn't know how to say no to him.

 _Shows you how weak willed I am._

A fragmented sentence was forming in her head and she wanted to quickly type it down – in all of its incoherency – before she lost her thought.

Unfortunately, Chappy negated those plans as she sauntered onto Rukia's desk and situated herself comfortably on the iMac.

 _"Nya."_

Rukia smiled at her cat's usual antics. "You would seek attention when I'm trying to work."

 _"Nya."_

"Do you miss Renji, Chappy?" Rukia mused.

 _"Nya."_

"I miss him, but at the same time, I don't think I really miss him. It's strange and not so strange, but I'm feeling guilty. For what? I'm not so sure myself. And that's most alarming to me."

 _"Nya."_

Rukia looked at her cat for the longest time and hesitated for a bit as she battled with what she wanted to reveal to her cat – or to herself. She didn't know what her motive was, but she wanted to release the words that have progressively been expanding itself into inner turmoil as she desperately tried to contain them. It was getting difficult, though. There were times she just wanted to release those forbidden words. Instead, she bit her tongue because once words get released, there was no way to take them back; regardless of whether there was another individual in the room or not.

 _"Pyon!"_

Rukia arched her right eyebrow as her cat – for whatever reason – decided to meow differently. Despite her small inner self-denigration earlier, she smiled fondly at her cat.

"That's a new meow, Chappy. Been watching _Chappy and Friends_ without me again?"

 _"Pyon!"_

Rukia began scratching Chappy's ears until she heard her doorbell.

After apologizing profusely to the annoyed cat, Rukia glided out of her room, through the living living room, and finally stood in front of her door. She opened the wooden barrier and was greeted by a beautiful woman with long, flowing strawberry orange hair. And she immediately knew that she was the other completed half of her neighbor.

"Hello! I'm Kurosaki Orihime!" she cheerily exclaimed. "You must be Abarai-san. Ichigo has been telling me how much of a big help you've been! I just wanted to personally come over and thank you!"

Her smile was quite infectious and Rukia nearly smiled back. "Pleased to meet you, Kurosaki-san. And of course, I'm happy to help out."

Orihime's smile grew wider, but Rukia recognized that even though Orihime seemed kind and happy, she was also carefully assessing Rukia. In their eleven seconds meeting, Rukia noticed how Orihime's eyes widened – by a fraction – when she saw her face, but then her face relaxed when she saw her tattoos and her current attire: Renji's gym red shorts and a gray wife beater.

Rukia wasn't sure why tattoos were considered a taboo beauty standard to some, but to each to their own.

"Is your husband back, Abarai-san?" Orihime asks.

Rukia shook her head. "He won't be back until this Thursday."

"You must be so lonely, Abarai-san!" Orihime wailed.

Rukia tried not to wince or show any emotions. She didn't know how to make of the situation. "It's normal for us. We actually both travel a lot, but we try not to travel together since our cat would be lonely. You know, I have separation anxiety when it concerns my cat." Rukia laughed.

Orihime smiled. "That's too cute! Your cat is like your child! I wish we had a son right now, but Ichigo says it's too soon!"

Rukia fought to keep her eyebrow still. Well, the conversation took an unexpected turn in. "Um, I can recommend you a cat shelter if you want to practice taking care of little entities, Kurosaki-san."

"Oh, I made you uncomfortable. Please forgive me, Abarai-san! I get lost in my own little world sometimes. I'm here to invite you over for dinner! Please come!"

Rukia blinked slowly. "Are you sure, Kurosaki-san? I don't want to inconvenience you or Kurosaki-kun."

 _More like it's going to be awkward being the three wheel._

"Nonsense!" Orihime nagged. "The more the merrier! Please come around seven! We're expecting you! Bye!"

And just like that Orihime flew back to her apartment, which was across the hall, two units down.

Rukia closed the door and turned around to see Chappy looking at her strangely, her head titled to the right.

"Should I bring pie or wine, Chappy?"

 _"Pyon!"_

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Rukia eventually went out to pick up a bottle of Kinsen Plum Wine. She felt unconscious baking another pie for a world renowned chef. The next time she baked a neighbor a pie, she was going to ask if they were a chef.

So here she was sipping some of her Kinsen Plum Wine after Orihime nagged her for bearing gifts to them.

There were times when Ichigo would make eye contact with Rukia and his surprisingly russet eyes would try to convey something to her.

She just didn't know what.

Or maybe she was trying to ignore it.

Orihime, on the other hand, was openly affectionate. Every so often she would whisper something into Ichigo's ear, prompting him to give her an awkward, almost embarrassed smile. As Rukia sat observing the couple, she could tell that Ichigo was most likely one of those archetype males seen in manga and those clichéd, over-saturated television dramas: he was the type of person who preferred actions over verbal communication.

He was an anomaly really. Who enters the enters the hospitality industry when they hated verbal communication and personally wore a nasty scowl on their face? Then again, he might have chosen to be a chef to hide within the confines of a heated kitchen to disassociate himself from the outside world.

It was then Rukia realized that she had been observing Ichigo one too many times.

They eventually moved to where the dining table was located and Rukia had to admit, Ichigo knew how to plate and decorate the table.

As they sat down, Rukia noticed that Orihime would scoot closer to Ichigo, prompting Ichigo to smile at her. It was also at that exact moment that Rukia felt something that she had not felt since she married Renji: being self-conscious. Looking at Orihime, she noticed that her skin was almost perfect and not marred by scars or anything else. And then she looked at Ichigo who, surprisingly, only had a few scars on his rough skin. Not once did Rukia ever regret her tattoos, but for some irrational reason, she felt a tinge of jealousy at how picture perfect the Kurosakis look. She knew it was merely feelings of superficiality that was temporarily plugged into her mind, but she was human. To be human was to realize how superficial one is/was. It was a fleeting emotion; she would return to the real world as those feelings shattered into nothingness.

"So Abarai-san," Orihime began, "Ichigo tells me that you're the owner of the IT Group! And you're from the prominent Kuchiki family! That's amazing, to accomplish such a thing at such a young age."

Rukia smiled, feeling a bit diffident. "I'm not that young, Kurosaki-san, but thank you. I'm just trying to do what I enjoy doing without feeling confined by people and institutions."

Ichigo smirked. "Yeah, I get it. Those ivory towers not only limit your freedom; they also robotize you."

Rukia returned the smirk as the two shared a laugh.

Orihime frowned, not getting the joke. She then tugged at Ichigo's hand, wanting in on the joke, but Ichigo just shook his head.

During the course of dinner, a playful banter between Ichigo and Rukia began, leaving Orihime to quietly observe them. But when she had enough, she started talking about her husband's nearly finished restaurant – something that Ichigo and Rukia had talked about before.

"Oh, Abarai-san! You and your husband must come on opening night! We would love to see you, right, Ichigo?"

Ichigo clenched his wine glass tightly, but nodded in order to pacify his wife.

Rukia shouldn't have noticed the detail, but she did. And she wasn't sure why she noticed. The action itself wasn't remarkable.

Rukia put down her dessert fork and replied, "Sure, we'll be there, if you don't mind. Great bragging rights: to know a famous celebrity chef. Not to mention he lives next door!" Rukia sarcastically mused. "Actually, if I get my team to show up during opening night, do I get a free meal? Or at least a second helping of dessert?" Rukia laughed at her lame attempt of a joke. Seriously, she needed to Google some jokes to entertain guests and hosts because she was epically failing right now.

Again, she noticed Ichigo softly smiling at her, shaking his head. "I'm sure we can figure something out…Abarai-san."

"Ichigo is such a talented cook! I became a traveling food blogger for him! We were both in the biomechanical program, but once he decided to be a chef, I changed my major and entered the gastronomy program so that we could work and travel together! It would be easier for our marriage as well."

"Oh," Rukia began, unsure of what to say after such a personal revelation was made. "That's nice."

Orihime began animatedly asking Rukia questions again. "What about you and your husband, Abarai-san! Does he work with you? Or does he at least work in the same field?"

Ichigo seemed interested in his wife's questions and looked at Rukia, leaning from his chair.

Rukia suddenly felt cornered. Sitting up straight so that her posture was not as rigid, she answered, "No, although Renji is interested in the science and technology fields, he works for my brother and travels quite a bit as he's the executive vice president of the Kuchiki Corporation.

At that moment, Rukia's phone buzzed. She excused herself from the dining table and asked if she could talk privately in the living room.

"It's your husband, isn't it?" Orihime squealed. "Yes, please feel free to go to the living room or in the guest room! We promise we won't eavesdrop!"

Once again, Rukia saw that Ichigo's face contorted considerably.

Nodding, Rukia left the Kurosakis briefly to talk to Renji.

"Okay. I'll see you Thursday morning then." Rukia hesitated before repeating, "I love you, too."

After she ended the call, Rukia had to breathe for a moment. She felt smothered – either from being in another's private space or because she just didn't know how to act in front of them.

 _Especially in front of him._

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Ichigo was running last minute errands for his restaurant. Everything was almost completed – he just needed a few more things. Orihime had wanted to go with him, but he told her to stay and work on the marketing aspects of their restaurant.

If he was being honest with himself, he just wanted time for himself.

He saw the tobacco vending machine and decided to buy a pack. Orihime had told him to quit the unhealthy vice, which he agreed. It was counterintuitive to have a regular workout regime only to ruin one's health by smoking. But people lived in contradictions. It was all part of human errors.

He saw the modern architectural building of the IT Group. The architectural building was almost created from a 3-d printer. The building was not pragmatic, but the glass windows and white walls were certainly a point of departure from the surrounding, old-fashioned buildings.

Frowning, he turned away from the building and focused on the vending machine. After grabbing the pack of cigarettes, he saw Rukia exiting the IT building. Before he knew it, he followed her, calling out to her.

"Abarai-san!"

Rukia turned to look at Ichigo, who was jogging towards her. She quickly texted a "I'm sorry, something came up. I'll call you later?" and sent it to the receiver.

"Hi, Kurosaki-kun," she greeted, though apprehensively.

Ichigo's smirk morphed into a frown. "What's wrong?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing. Renji has to stay in England a bit longer because of a technical error in a contract. It looks like he's coming back on Sunday instead."

The frown transformed into a scowl. He wasn't in the mood listening to how much his neighbor was yearning for her husband. In fact, he felt a wave of anxiety just thinking about it.

"Well, I'll be going now, Kurosaki-kun. I'll see you around. Have a good rest of the afternoon," Rukia said, desperate to get away from him.

Ichigo panicked. Did he do something to upset her? "Abarai-san! If you haven't had lunch yet, would you like to grab a bite with me?"

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _It's too darn hot!_

 _It's too darn hot!_

 _I'd like to sup with my baby tonight,_

 _Refill the cup with my baby tonight._

 _I'd like to sup with my baby tonight,_

 _Refill the cup with my baby tonight._

 _But I ain't up to my baby tonight_

 _'Cause it's too darn hot_

They were at an underground jazz bar as Ella Fitzgerald's "Too Darn Hot" was playing from the juke box. Ichigo recently discovered it when he was familiarizing himself with the streets of Tokyo. The business city life was nothing like the quaint, quiet town of Karakura. He didn't like it nor did he dislike it. One just had to adapt to new surroundings to live.

The jazz bar was a place where he can just be in the company of himself and think about the current time and locational space he was currently engaging himself in. As much as he loved his job, working in a heated kitchen for twelve to fifteen hours a day was stressful. Personalities clashed, recipes didn't work, and such. Home life was comfortable. Perhaps a bit too comfortable, but wasn't that the requisite of having your own family? To be comfortable and content for life until the end?

 _If there was an end._

Ichigo lit a cigarette and began smoking, feeling the familiar burning in his throat as he puffed on the cigarette.

Rukia was observing him and then turned around to study the establishment. "Are you a stress smoker?"

Ichigo smiled. "You can say that." He puffed his cigarette once more and stared at her, and a feeling of ease surrounded him. "My father once told me that my mother thought he looked cool when he smokes. So every year, he would smoke one cigarette on the anniversary of her death."

Rukia turned around to look at him, startled at the sudden revelation. Rather than asking the obvious question, she instead asked, "So, Kurosaki-san thinks you look cool smoking? Are you projecting yourself as a devil with a cigarette?"

Ichigo set his cigarette down, surprised that she didn't ask or make a remark about his mother's death. He chose to smirk to hide his surprise. "No, Orihime doesn't like me smoking. I told her I quit, but you know, urges creep in at times. I care about her too much to smoke in front of her presence."

"Caring is creepy," Rukia deadpanned. "She's just looking out for your health, but here you are being a chimney."

Ichigo snorted at her reference to the Shins.

She rolled her eyes and smelled herself. "By the way, you're paying for my laundry. I'm going to smell like a chimney in this sweltering heat by the time we leave this snazzy place."

Ichigo grumbled about socially inept scientists. And another banter erupted.

 _It's too darn hot!_

 _It's too darn hot!_

 _I'd like to coo with my baby tonight,_

 _And pitch the woo with my baby tonight._

 _I'd like to coo with my baby tonight,_

 _And pitch the woo with baby tonight._

 _But brother you fight my baby tonight_

 _'Cause it's too darn hot_

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

That night Ichigo made love to Orihime, but he imagined it was _her_. He couldn't help himself.

And that night, after his wife was sound asleep, he went to the balcony and smoked another cigarette. He was feeling the weight of his inner guilt crushing him, but he just couldn't get her out of his conscious, even if he tried to.

He observed the complex and noticed that her lights were still on. She was most likely creating some robotic entities or sketching and taking notes as she read some articles.

He heard something and strained his ear, trying to figure out what song she was listening to.

 _According to the Kinsey Report_

 _Ev'ry average man you know_

 _Much prefers his love - why dove – why to court_

 _When the temperature is low,_

 _But when the thermometer goes 'way up_

 _And the weather is sizzling hot,_

 _Mister pants for romance is not_

He smirked. Like the devil.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

and he could feel the burn.

* * *

 **End notes:**

 **Yes, Ichigo and Rukia are very forcibly formal with each other**.

 **I did copy and paste parts of _IT_ here, the building's description. I don't hate Inoue or Renji. It's just how I chose to characterize them in my story, which is AU by the way. I will most likely never dare touch _Bleach's_ universe, unless I reference the poems.**


	3. Chapter 3

**the burning sentience of a robot**

* * *

Rukia walked out of her apartment. Although her steps were graceful and quiet, she was actually in a hurry to get to the airport.

Renji was coming home today.

As she was nearing the elevators, she bumped into Ise Nanao, their complex leasing manager.

"Please excuse me, Ise-san," Rukia politely said, bowing slightly.

Nanao pushed her glasses upwards and coughed into her right hand. "It was my fault, Abarai-san. Much apologies." She coughed again and Rukia could see that she was blushing.

It was almost difficult to do, but Rukia reigned in her smirk that was threatening to appear. She knew that there was only person who could make Nanao concurrently blush and look beyond riled.

 _Kyōraku Shunsui._

The owner of Katen Kyokotsu Apartments.

The man was one eccentric – who wears a pink flowered haori and a straw hat every single day, during all four seasons – but well-meaning landlord.

And a somewhat perverted drunkard.

But Rukia liked him all the same. Even with his peculiarities.

Nanao coughed a third time. "Again, my apologies, Abarai-san. I'm here on Kyōraku-sama's behalf…"

She tried to ignore Rukia's tittering, which she tried but failed to mask as a cough.

"…as you know," Nanao continued, "Kyōraku-sama always organizes a progressive dinner party when new tenants move in."

Rukia blinked. Several times.

She had almost forgotten about Shunsui's tradition. The man always found an excuse to eat and drink at others' – expenses – homes as a way to welcome newer tenants. To make them feel welcome. And because he attempted to practice his parents' tradition from the 1960s:

Although walls separated apartment units, it was always communal. Neighbors knew each other.

 _And shared gossip._

While Rukia was a private person by nature, she appreciated and understood what Shunsui was trying to recapture amidst varying societies, communities, and individuals that were altering themselves as more hyper-individualistic.

 _And much colder._

Besides, she had to commend Shunsui. He almost accomplished his dream goal; however, Rukia noticed that everyone was almost too polite and reserved with each other – herself included. It must be due to multiple geographical, ideological, time, and spatial variables.

Time was either lost or it has changed.

Probably both.

 _But then there's always that desire to control time. To maintain time. To taxidermize it._

Breaking yet another inner-dialogue with herself, Nanao asked, "Kyōraku-sama asked if you could perhaps open your doors for the dessert course tonight, Abarai-san. We understand if it's an inconvenience as everyone here knows you're very busy, but he said your pies and cakes are, and I quote, 'out of this world.'"

Rukia couldn't control the fits of school girl giggles that suddenly erupted.

Nanao smiled. She was always fond of Rukia – her accomplishments, her life, her marriage, her successes.

"Dinner would be from 7pm-10pm, but knowing Kyōraku-sama, the last course would involve sky high piles of sake. So, I'm thinking until midnight?"

For a few moments there, Rukia had completely forgotten about her task.

She had to get to the airport in 45 minutes.

"Abarai-san?"

Rukia looked at Nanao and smiled guiltily. "I do apologize, Ise-san, I have to rush to the airport right now. My husband is returning today."

"Oh!" Nanao exclaimed. "I'm so sorry, Abarai-san. I forgot Abarai-kun was coming home today. Please don't let me delay you. And please come for dinner! It will be nice to see you and Abarai-kun together again!"

Rukia nodded and smiled. "Of course. I'll see you and Kyōraku-san in a few."

As she turned around she heard a door open and close, but didn't bother looking back.

When the elevators opened, she bumped into Orihime and both casually greeted each other.

As the elevators closed, she saw Orihime loop her arm around Ichigo's and she saw Ichigo talking to Nanao, who was most likely inviting them to Shunsui's progressive dinner. Ichigo then untangled himself from Orihime and looped his arm around her shoulder as his wife was animatedly talking to Nanao.

He then stared at the closing elevator doors. And frowned.

 **.**

 ** _._**

 ** _._**

Rukia's lone figure could be seen standing in a corner of Haneda Airport, attempting to blend in with the masses.

And anxiously trying to avoid the overly large space that threatened to swallow her whole, along with other bodies.

She smiled as she finally caught a glimpse of fiery, blinding, red hair that was all too familiar with her.

Renji stood there looking around for his wife and adjusted his bandana.

Rukia shook her head and began her slow walk towards him. Though her face was masked with an expressionless face that even she pondered about.

As the two were nearing in proximity, Renji looked ahead and smiled brightly once he saw her.

"Rukia!"

He ran to her and hugged her tightly, slightly suffocating her as she was struggling to breathe.

Rather than fighting him, she smiled and returned the hug, even if their major height difference made it look strange to others.

Squeezing her harder, Renji whispered, "I love you so much."

She wasn't sure why, but she automatically answered, "I've missed you too."

And automatically felt guilty.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Ichigo was quietly observing the Abarais with an unreadable face during the progressive dinner. The group, which consisted of him, Orihime, the Abarais, Shunsui, Nanao, Ukitake Jūshirō, and several other neighbors/tenants, were seated at a very large bench dining table. It was a welcoming dinner party for his and Orihime's move to Tokyo and a welcoming party from everyone at Katen Kyokotsu Apartments.

With a suggestive smile and an exaggerative waggling of his eyebrows, Shunsui casually remarked that the Abarais were not expected to come that they were most likely going to make up for lost time as Renji was away for nearly a month.

His comment earned him a slap from Nanao.

Much to everyone's surprise, the Abarais did indeed join the party.

Renji was curious to know what triggered the bout of laughter, Renji, after greeting everyone, inquired about the joke.

Ukitake, with a smile, relayed the joke to them.

A smirk emerged from Renji's lips, which made Ichigo scowl. And a pretty blush from Rukia.

His face contorted even more as his scowl was more prominent when he saw Renji casually looping his arm around Rukia's chair and was whispering into her air, eliciting a spell of quiet giggles from her. Rukia, as Ichigo also noted, had her put her hand on her husband's knee.

They were all intimate acts between a married couple yet Ichigo couldn't help but feel envious of the two. Even if he didn't have the right to.

He first noted that Rukia was fashionably dressed for a Sunday. Especially for a person who was simply picking up her husband from the airport. Then again, Rukia was always a trendy dresser. But if Ichigo was more honest to himself, he would have noted that his brewing jealousy began when she and his wife continuously talked about Renji and his successful business ventures the other night. Apparently, the man was a well-traveled and cultured person. To Ichigo, Renji looked like quite identical to him: a punk that dressed like a wannabe rock star with loud, vivid hair. Actually, Renji looked like Bret Michaels, minus the eyeliner. The two could have been long lost brothers for all he knew. But after seeing him and Rukia walking in together for the second/entrée course, Ichigo knew his inner jealousy was spreading to the core. Physically, they looked incompatible – they looked like polar opposites, but their mannerisms complemented each other in every aspect possible. It might be immature, but Ichigo thought they looked like a cool, dangerous couple, waiting to battle the status quo together. It must have been the tattoos.

 _And one couldn't help but notice that their relationship was stable – very stable._

Ichigo wasn't sure why he was so keen to observe all of their movements, gestures, and such. It just happened.

Orihime laid her head onto his shoulder, effectively interrupting his thoughts. He then saw Rukia leaning into Renji and whispered something and the two shared a laugh.

Once again, Ichigo could feel his face contorting.

Renji turned to Ichigo and smiled widely. "Kurosaki, Rukia told me you're opening a restaurant here. It's exciting, but a little daunting since there's a lot of established chefs here."

Rukia chided her husband for being too aloof to a fault. Ichigo was pretty sure she stepped on Renji's feet.

He wanted to smile.

"Yeah, that's correct. But I'm not too worried. Attempting to belong in the food industry while trying to expand it and trying to be a part of it is a gamble, but that's life. Life is a gamble," Ichigo replied. He stared at Rukia meaningfully.

Rukia was the only person who deliberated over his words.

As expected.

Renji nodded approvingly. "Well said. Well, if you need help with anything, you can contact me. I have many connections." He smiled.

Ichigo forced a fake smile and thanked him.

Orihime smiled brightly and sat up. "Yes, Ichigo's very talented! He was classically trained in France and then he studied molecular gastronomy in the States. He's very experimental! Oh right! We would like to invite you all to his grand opening to _Zangestu._ Right Ichigo?"

Ichigo looked at his wife, patted her knee, and only nodded.

He looked at Rukia.

Who smiled. "Of course I'll be there. I was promised at least two free desserts."

Ichigo smirked. "Only if it can get the Kuchiki Princess to leave a four-star review that is worthy of a Michelin Star."

She returned the smirk. "I'll give you three-stars if you add in another free dessert."

The party erupted in a drunken, jovial laughter. Rukia and Ichigo gifted each other with a genuine smile that was reserved for certain occasions.

And for them, a seemingly lame but winningly snarky banter was one such occasion.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Renji kissed Rukia's bare back one last time and laid back down his side of their bed. Several minutes later, she heard his even breathing, signaling his deep slumber.

Knowing that her husband was exhausted, she put on her white silk robe and exited their bedroom.

She walked to their library and looked around. But in reality, she wasn't really looking at anything. She just wanted to distract her brain so she opted to focus on the words and images decorated within the library. To her, they simply looked like pieces of missing puzzle pieces. Nothing was coherent anymore.

Just like how her brain was processing itself.

She saw Chappy sleeping on top of one of the many books she was reading for her research project: the hardcover copy of _International Encyclopedia of Robotics_.

Rukia softly touched Chappy, who made a tiny noise upon contact.

"Chappy?" Rukia hesitantly whispers. "I need to stop these array of feelings and emotions while I'm able to control them _now_."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Rukia was sitting on their bed, straightening her sleeveless white embellished collar sleeveless blouse and black peach blossom skirt.

She looked at Renji who was packing last minute traveling necessities and stuffing them messily in his gray luggage.

Rolling her eyes, she asked, "How long will you be gone this time?"

Renji turned to look at her and softly smiled. He walked over to their bed and kissed her crown. "Maybe a month this time." He sighed and hugged her. "Look Rukia, I know all this traveling has been extremely difficult, but I promise you, this will be the last one for the year. After this, I'll be in Tokyo more and we won't be separated again. We'll be together."

 _Separated and together…_

Two words that were different. But at the same time, their meanings were quite similar as they were both heavy in connotation.

Rukia gave Renji a reassuring smile, but her inner world was getting shaky; imbalanced even. "Yes, of course. Bring me back a few skirts when you're in Paris."

Renji chuckled.

 _Things need not change if they're controllable._

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

A few doors done, Ichigo and Orihime were talking about her own current assignment.

"I'm sorry, Ichigo. I know we just moved here, but my boss wanted me to go to Vietnam to film a documentary about the food culture there. We'll be separated for at least a month."

Ichigo scratched his head. "I told you it's fine, Orihime. Work comes first."

Orihime pouted. "But I won't be here for your grand opening."

"It will be fine, Orihime. I'll email you and let you know how it went."

Still sulking, Orihime danced over to her husband and kissed him.

Ichigo wasn't sure if he was responding to her kiss or not.

It was probable that he wasn't; and he wasn't quite sure how he felt about that.

 _Everything is changing._

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

The next day, Ichigo and Rukia shared an elevator.

Ichigo finally realized that Rukia was avoiding him. Ever since the progressive dinner party. Something must have happened.

She began mechanically greeting him, making small talk, and everything else. He would try to get a rise out of her, but she elected to performing as an automaton. Lifeless and all that wit and humor were concealed elsewhere.

To him, it was a performative act. To hide herself.

To her, it was an act to avoid confrontation. Personal confrontation. And to avoid interacting with her neighbor. Instead, of showing her human side to him, she was determined to use her Kuchiki training to harden herself and mask her feelings.

She mechanically bid Ichigo a good day and drove off to the IT building.

Rukia didn't spare him a glance and for that, he scowled at her retreating figure.

He must have done something to warrant such an act from her. He just couldn't piece the fragments together.

Slowly driving away, Rukia chanced a look at her rearview mirror and saw Ichigo walking away and noticed his rigid posture and his slumped back.

Rukia exhaled.

There was a reason why humans fear the uncanny robots – though they weren't that dissimilar to their human counterparts at all.

.

.

.

because they too can feel the burn of superfluous emotions.

* * *

 **End notes:**

 **What I am tired of reading: Rukia is a Shinigami and Ichigo is a human. I'm sorry, isn't Ichigo a hybrid that blurs the boundaries between the living and the dead? Shinigamis, likewise, are part of the living dead. And what about Isshin and Masaki? Please halt the double standards to justify something that the author himself has illogically not explained well.**

 **Two more parts.**


	4. Chapter 4

**engulfed in flames**

* * *

Rukia walked out of her apartment door and found herself face to face with none other than the formidable Nanao.

She wasn't one to be easily startled, especially as of late. She's been looking lifeless. Robotic even.

 _How ironic._

"Abarai-san?" Nanao began, though a bit uneasily. "Is there something wrong? Didn't you just get off from work an hour ago?"

Rukia attempted to smile, but it turned out into a slight grimace. "I'm meeting some of my coworkers for dinner. That and I think I need some air."

In all honesty though, it was summer. So summer air would have been equally toxic since it somewhat defeated the purpose; however, Rukia knew she had to get out of her apartment. Work was getting hectic. Home life was hectic. The home space suddenly seemed smaller, threatening to swallow her into an alternate dimension. He was making her feel frenetic. She felt herself drowning within the world of chaos.

 _Is this how you apply chaos theory into the personal? And then to feel the after effects of the consequences as systems and one's behaviors begin to unravel and change? Hmm…_

Nanao nodded, in both pity and understanding. Fortunately, she didn't really understand Rukia's dilemma as Rukia wasn't able to comprehend it herself.

That and perhaps because she chose to remain ignorant about her inner – true? – self.

"I see. I was about to invite you to Kyōraku-sama's apartment since he's having a Friday night dinner party of some sort. Don't worry, Abarai-san, he's providing all of the nourishments." Nanao laughed as she attempted to cheer Rukia up, but she immediately frowned as she saw Rukia forcing a smile just to pacify her.

Nanao pondered what was wrong with Rukia. Maybe she was missing her husband? He's been absent much more than usual. Again, she felt an enormous amount of sadness for Rukia.

Rukia tried her best to move her currently immobile face to produce a genuine smile, but she most likely failed. "Thank you, Ise-san. Maybe another time? I've been busy at work and my colleagues decided it was time to have a night off. So I'm off to see them. Please send Kyōraku-san my apologies. I'll be sure to make it next time, hopefully."

Nanao nodded sympathetically. "Of course, Abarai-san. Just have fun. I'm worried about you."

Rukia managed a small smile this time. Nanao was always so kind to her. "Thanks and likewise. Have a good night."

With those words Rukia left.

Nanao entered Shunsui's large apartment (really, it was a condo) after bidding Rukia good night and ignored his innuendos, which were not only uncivilized but immaturely lame as well.

She was a bit stupefied when she noticed Ichigo sitting next to Shunsui as the flirty, older man was trying to get the younger man to drink more sake. Ichigo rarely left his apartment, especially when he found out that Rukia was either at work or decided to stay in for the night. The two, as Nanao keenly observed, seemed to have a strong camaraderie and it was quite visible when one notices the smallest details. He was comfortable with her; while Rukia was a bit reserved and guarded with strangers – and friends for that matter – she also seemed comfortable with him.

Did he accept the invitation because he thought Rukia would show up?

It was like Shunsui to interrupt her analytical thoughts.

"Nanao-chan! You finally came!" Shunsui slurred. "I was dying of loneliness without you!"

Nanao coughed and hid her blush by pushing her glasses forward. "Quit being dramatic. You're sitting with Kurosaki-kun and Lisa-chan, I doubt you're lonely, let alone dying."

Shunsui smiled. "Ah! My Nanao-chan knows me best! Are we missing a person?" He looked around for someone.

As did Ichigo.

"No, Abarai-san went out to meet with her colleagues. She won't be joining us tonight," Nanao replied.

She then directed her gaze to an oblivious Ichigo.

And mentally rolled her eyes.

"She goes out with friends looking like that? Dressed even more than the nines?" Lisa questioned.

Ichigo's brain was processing the question.

.

.

.

Rukia met up with two of her colleagues from the IT Group and best friends: Matsumoto Rangiku and Hinamori Momo.

The trio met up at the underground jazz bar that she and Ichigo had frequented in the past and just as Rukia sat down, the two immediately noticed her new diamond stud earrings.

"Good god! The shine on them are blinding my eyes!" Rangiku exclaimed and for a dramatized effect, she covered her eyes. "The shine of the bling is too real; it hurts."

Rukia rolled her eyes. "Rangiku-san, don't be dramatic."

"But 'tis true, Rukia-chan! Those are some major stones! Did Renji buy them for you? I don't think it's your anniversary, is it? I mean I was drunk during your wedding as your bridesmaid, but I remember it being sometime in the fall? Or was it winter? Whatever, you get my point."

Regardless of her initial thoughts about said bling-stones, Rukia smiled. A genuine this time. Rangiku, in many extreme cases, was able to get her out of her inner turmoil.

"Awww! Rukia-chan, Renji-kun is so sweet! He must really miss you," Momo chimed.

Rukia unconsciously touched her right earring and sighed, remembering the events that occurred an hour before.

 **.**

 **.**

 _Rukia was sitting in her office, scratching Chappy's ears as she was looking over the past and current projects that the IT Group were working on. She had an hour to spare before she had to meet up with Momo and Rangiku so she might as well try to remain productive._

 _Her doorbell rang._

 _And once again, the offensive doorbell angered and frightened Chappy, making the poor white cat scramble away to another safe haven._

 _Rukia sighed and trekked to the door, opening it and was greeted by an employee at Tokyo Post. He asked her to sign for an express package and handed her a small black box that was addressed to her yet there was no return address._

 _Rukia thanked the employee and closed her door._

 _Observing the box, she hesitantly opened it and found a pair of expensive, sparkly earrings._

 _She sighed._

 _Her iPhone buzzed._

 _She saw the caller's name, sighed, and hit the 'Accept' button. "Hey Renji. Everything okay?"_

 _…_

 _Rukia listened to her husband as she held the box storing the earrings in one hand. She wasn't sure what to think of the gift. He knew she never really cared for such lavish gifts. Sure, hi-tech technology she adored – a major privilege – but such pricey earrings?_

 _She also knew that Renji wasn't one to surprise her with such gifts._

 _So what was on his mind?_

 _"That's good. Glad you and Nii-sama were able to handle the business contract smoothly. I hope your French didn't make you a laughing stock in Paris," Rukia joked. Well, attempted to._

 _…_

 _"Yes, I received the earrings. They…are…nice looking?"_

 _…_

 _"Yeah? I'm just wondering why you decided to buy me earrings. Randomly might I add."_

 _He was getting agitated, she could tell. "I just wanted to know. And we both know that you rarely buy me jewelry since I don't wear them all that much."_

 _…_

 _"No, I didn't say you were trying to – quote - 'maintain me with gifts to keep me.' You're the one that assumed that, Renji."_

 _…_

 _"Don't be presumptuous."_

 _…_

 _"Excuse me?"_

 _…_

 _"And may I ask why you're involving Kurosaki-kun in our current argument? What does he have to do with anything?"_

 _…_

 _"As I've told you before, Renji, he and I are friends."_

 _…_

 _Listening to Renji rant about her 'relationship' with Ichigo was stressing her out. Though she might have some underlying feelings for Ichigo, she also knew that these feelings were stirring because they were perhaps opposites – foils – to each other that made their 'relationship' odd to 'outsiders.'_

 _She was also hyperaware of the fact that she was mildly attracted to him and while she was guilty for having such thoughts, she would never do anything to betray Renji and risk their marriage._

 _Then again, those were just temporary feelings that were seeping in. Feelings can halt._

 _Positively controllable._

 _…_

 _"You can think whatever suits your insecure ego, Renji. But I will also tell you that he and I are neighbors, friends. And married people, yes, exclusively humans because I won't speak for other nonhuman entities, can remain as friends. Platonic relationships can exist. They do exist."_

 _…_

 _Sighing she continued, "I know, Renji. If it's obvious that there's chemistry between us, then fine. But chemistry also carries over to friends."_

 _…_

 _"Perhaps you are thinking too much, Renji."_

 _…_

 _".."_

 _…_

 _"Yes, I love you too, Renji."_

 **.**

 **.**

"Earth to Rukia-chan! My god Momo! It finally happened! Rukia finally revealed to us that she's not a human!" Rangiku dramatically wailed.

"Oh be quiet, Rangiku-san!" Momo playfully admonished. "Rukia-chan, you're a human, right? It's totally fine if you're not. You're still the coolest person here."

Rukia finally blinked, an indication that she had heard the ridiculous yet fun accusations. "Greetings, earthlings. I come in peace."

Though Rukia was being lame and monotonous, it worked for Rangiku and Momo as the two nearly fell out of their chairs.

After wiping her eyes, Rangiku continued, "Really, what's wrong Rukia-chan? I mean we're just basically saying Renji has mighty fine taste in jewelry. It's not unusual since his fashion is a bit, uh, interesting in his line of work, but to each to their own. I guess…"

Momo looked at Rukia said, "You probably miss him, don't you, Rukia-chan? Don't worry. A month goes by quickly. He'll return to you before you know it!"

Rukia half smiled and thanked her friends.

Rangiku turned her attention to Momo. "You're the one to speak, Momo. Taichou has been attending conferences after conferences and I bet you Skype him or have phone se…eh? What's wrong, Momo?"

Rukia focused on Momo and noticed that her eyes were downcast. "Is everything alright Momo? Something happen?"

Guilt was written all over her face.

Momo began shaking and tears were dropping onto the table. Rukia and Rangiku immediately looked at each other in concern – and surprise. Momo was maybe the happiest person on the planet. A gross exaggeration, but it could be true.

Squeezing her shoulder, Rangiku asked, "What's wrong Momo? Something happened between you and Taichou? Is it the distance? Like you told Rukia-chan, he'll return to you."

Tears were still falling and Momo stammered, "I've…be..been…I've…been…Shiro…"

Rukia gave her a glass of water and Rangiku informed her to take her time to coherently tell them everything.

Momo hiccupped and finally revealed her own inner guilt that was eating her alive: "I've been cheating on Shiro…"

The happy atmosphere moments ago suddenly changed. Not only a pin drop could interrupt the tense silence that was currently engulfing the three.

Rangiku suddenly shouted, "You what?! How could you?! It's none of my business, but Taichou loves you, really loves you! How could you do that?! To him?! He doesn't deserve it!"

Momo cried harder. "I can't really justify it, Rangiku-san. It just happened."

Rangiku's eyes then turned to slits – never had Rukia seen her best friend angrier than this very moment. "Momo, you've been married to Taichou for what? Six years? And you've known each other for what? Since childhood? Why throw that all away for a night of fuck and fun?!"

Momo, again, cried harder. "You don't understand…"

Rangiku was about to say more, but Rukia stopped her.

"Rangiku-san, please stop making a scene. You're only aggravating the situation." Rukia once more focused her gaze to Momo. "Momo? You made that choice and I'm sure you understand the consequences. Rangiku-san was harsh, but try to understand her standpoint, she and Hitsugaya-kun are really close."

Momo nodded. "Yes, I understand. As I've told you, it just happened…between me and Aizen Sōsuke _…"_

"Aizen! As in yours and Taichou's former professor, Rukia-chan?!" Rangiku exclaimed.

Rukia simply nodded and Momo confirmed by nodding.

Rukia wanted to get behind the psychology behind the choice and action, but hesitated. That and she did not want to pry – it wasn't her nature to.

"Like I said, Rangiku-san, it happened. There was a mutual attraction between us when we first met. As Shiro's absence was recurring, he and I met up and we slept with each other. I knew it was a mistake, but I couldn't control myself. Although I wanted to stop it, I couldn't and so I kept coming to him," Momo miserably revealed.

 _So this is now normalized behavior? To renounce one's marital vows to practice polygamy without notifying the other spouse? Guilt: the power to crush one's soul._

Rukia frowned as she was reflecting.

Rangiku tightened her hand around her glass of beer. "Momo, you need to tell Taichou and if you want to stay with him, then you need to stop seeing Aizen. Or if you want to leave Taichou, then leave him. It's also fair to give Taichou a choice once you tell him. It's not fair to Taichou, you, or Aizen."

Momo looked down. "Aizen-sama ended it last night. He told me he was getting married in a month."

The trio went quiet. No one dared uttered a word although there was a lot to be said.

Rukia, however, thought, _"A lot can happen in a month. I need to put this in perspective as the consequences are too severe. For everyone."_

What she told Renji earlier had to be placed in the backburner, just to police her own feelings. The guilt of cheating was powerful enough to crush a person and she didn't want that power to crush Renji, Orihime, and Ichigo.

Rukia sighed as she tried to comfort her friend.

 _Guilt also never fails to burn you alive._

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Three nights later, Ichigo next saw Rukia walking from a restaurant with her friend as she bid her farewell – or so he assumes. He also noticed that her friend was as short as her – to which he chuckled – but it also looked like the friend was crying.

Rukia walked in his direction, but she wasn't aware that he was right there, in front of her.

Ichigo felt a bit hurt that she wasn't even aware of his presence as he was right in front of her. She simply walked passed him without any acknowledgement. It wasn't her fault, but the pain of being ignored lingered.

Hesitantly he called out to her, "Abarai-san?"

He saw how her body froze immediately. It was as if she were glued to that very spot.

Ichigo slowly walked up to her as she turned around.

"Good evening, Kurosaki-kun," Rukia greeted.

He could tell she was nervous. But he wasn't sure why.

He also knew his heart was palpitating at seeing her. Again.

 _Finally_.

"Ah, likewise. I haven't seen you around lately. Everything okay with you…with Abarai?" Ichigo had to force the last part out.

Rukia nodded. "Yes, all is well. And you? How's the flagship restaurant going? And how is Kurosaki-san acclimating in Vietnam?"

Ichigo frowned. "Yeah, it's just been busy with the restaurant and stuff. I'm planning the menu and I'm hoping the crew is ready to open it in a week or two." He stared at Rukia. "You're planning to come to my grand opening still, right?"

Rukia didn't answer.

Ichigo suddenly remembered. "And Orihime is fine. She's fallen in love with the street food there. She wants to visit there together sometime."

Rukia nodded again. She just wanted to return home and rest. She's been exhausted. About everything. And she was cognizant of the fact that she evaded the question about being present at his restaurant's grand opening.

It was intentional.

"Well, it's nice running into you, Kurosaki-kun. Have a good rest of the evening," Rukia droned. Honestly, she was running out of things to say, which wasn't normal. She was not normal as of late.

Before she was able to leave him, Ichigo asked, "Abarai-san, is it too imposing to ask if you would like to have a cup of coffee with me?"

His voice sounded wishful.

"Kurosaki-kun…I don't…"

"A cup of joe at my restaurant. You'll be the first person… _friend_ ….to see the interior. Isn't that a good incentive to go? I mean 'great bragging rights,' right?" Ichigo smirked, hoping she would really come. He just wanted to be in her company. Like that time at the underground jazz bar.

Rukia looked at him as if trying to decipher both his eyes and what he was thinking. Rigidly, she agreed.

His smirk became a half smile.

And the two walked side by side, though in awkward silence.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Rukia was nervously stirring her coffee with a wooden spoon. She had to admit that Ichigo's sense of interior décor was brilliant. That or she was used to such hipsterish interior when she visited the States, but his building, the exterior, the interior, to his utensils were almost fashionably decided. Well, Ichigo did have a punkish, street/hipster fashion vibe, much like her husband so it was no surprise that their décor conveniently matched their aesthetics in fashion.

The mere thought of her husband made her stop thinking about Ichigo and his fashionable methods of choosing materials.

She opted to continue stirring her and staring at the teak wood coffee cup.

The current atmosphere was awkward. Politely awkward even. They hadn't really spoken much either. She was too engrossed with her stirring as he was smoking (again) and taking sips of his coffee.

After taking another sip of his coffee, Ichigo put his cup back down onto the wooden saucer. "Abarai-san, I'm going to be blunt, so do forgive me. Is there a reason why you've been avoiding me?"

Rukia stopped stirring as if his question triggered something. Emotionally. For most of the night, her eyes were focused on her coffee cup, it contents as it was swirling upon the combined friction between her fingers and the spoon. Not once had she maintained eye contact with him ever since they entered his dimly lit, not yet opened restaurant.

She bit the inside of her left cheek, unsure how to respond to him. Because to her, it was ridiculous and she wanted to keep in within the deep pits of an abyss. Meaning her heart.

"Did I do something that might have offended you?" he probed. "If that's the case, I'm sorry."

He sounded genuine, as if he didn't mean to do anything that might have placed her in the current predicament.

 _But it was my own fault for allowing myself there in the first place. It has nothing to do with Kurosaki-kun._

She shook her head. "I do apologize, Kurosaki-kun. You didn't do anything wrong. I've been in a funk lately and wanted to be alone. If I was being standoffish to you, then again, I apologize." She then bowed her head.

Ichigo knew she wasn't telling him everything, and that was her right; so he decided to respect her decision.

It was simple, really. He respected her and would give her the space she needed. But he also missed talking to her.

Ichigo nodded as he placed his cigarette in an ashtray and wiped any ashes that had fallen onto the wooden tables.

Rukia couldn't help but roll her eyes. "You do know that the stench of cigarettes are strong, yes? Your restaurant will reek of smoke by the time you open it."

Ichigo bit back a smile. Her off-putting yet signature sarcasm was back. "Not if I air the place out."

"Right. By opening the doors during the night? People are going to be looting," Rukia sassed.

It was his turn to roll his eyes, but he enjoyed their comfortable banter.

He then asked, "Are you hungry, Abarai-san? I can whip us a quick meal?"

"Depends. Are you charging me for after hour specials?" she quipped.

"No, but the stipulation: you come to my grand opening."

 **.**

Ichigo brought out a tray of soba noodles, pan fried dumplings, and iced water.

"Is this what I get from a James Beard winner? Aren't you like an artistic chef or something? There's not a drop of color in the food. Talk about false advertisement," Rukia joked.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm pulling out the guns for the grand opening. Be grateful that I'm feeding you for free," Ichigo contested.

The duo ate in silence. But it was apparent that Rukia used her sarcasm to mask how uncomfortable she was.

Ichigo seemed to have noticed this and after swallowing he decided to ask her if they could meet up with each other more. He would really appreciate her being his tour guide.

Rukia stilled her chopsticks. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea, Kurosaki-kun."

"Why?" he demanded, albeit hotly.

Rukia, once again, was at loss for words. "Um, society's perceptions?" She hoped he was able to understand the 'full context' of her vague answer. Even she was unable to say the word. It was as if the word was a scarlet word. A taboo.

Ichigo knew what she was alluding to, for he had been contemplating the same thing. It truly was a dilemma, but he knew it wouldn't be anything risky if they didn't want it to be. Operative word: _if_. They were both adults, capable of controlling and handling themselves.

"Abarai-san," he began, "if you're afraid that people will think of this as an _affair_ , which I'm assuming is the case, then don't worry. Two married people are allowed to be friends. It doesn't have to be anything else. Platonic relationships do exist you know."

Rukia looked at him straight in the eye. That forbidden word suddenly hitting her with full force. It showed. Now, she was quite ashamed of herself. "I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun."

Ichigo wanted to touch her hand and squeeze it for reassurance but that would have contradicting everything he had said earlier. "Don't apologize. I just want to spend time with you. _As friends_. If that's okay with you."

Rukia smiled. Traces of dilemma, though, still existed, were greatly reduced and she was able to sigh in relief. "Yes, absolutely. _As friends_. Thank you, Kurosaki-kun."

They spent the rest of the night together talking _as friends_ again.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

A week later, Zangetsu opened to the public.

And as promised, Rukia, even though she made last minute reservations, came with Rangiku.

Ichigo smiled as he saw her from their open-spaced kitchen as she sat down.

"Oh wow, look at this place! Amazing! Thanks for inviting me, Rukia-chan. You're the best boss-friend one could ever have," Rangiku bellowed.

"Yes, and don't you forget that. And apparently, I favor you, Rangiku-san," Rukia airily replied. "Ayasegawa Yumichikia and Madarame Ikkaku have been complaining."

Rangiku snorted as Rukia tittered while shaking her head over what Rangiku was telling her. It was something about how refracting lightbulbs and narcissistic featherheads were not great assets to anything in life.

At that moment, Ichigo walked towards their table. Upon arrival, he asked if they wanted to try the tasting menu in the next room or order from the menu.

Rukia smiled at him and was gifted with his signature half smile, half smirk. Ichigo looked rather cool: no chef's jacket because according to him, they were nothing more than laboratory-like coats that were worn to distinguish one's "authority in a kitchen/restaurant" from waiters, customers, and the like.

Instead, Ichigo wore a highly fashionable blue apron that looked custom made and tailored, a denim jean casual shirt with black skinnies, and black boots.

"Oh my…are you the owner and chef of Zangetsu?" Rangiku asked, a bit surprised even. She wasn't sure why, it was most likely the striking orange hair. And then she knew it: he was the famous up and coming chef who was innovative when it came to food!

"Yeah, I am," Ichigo replied, eyes never leaving Rukia's face, though she was looking at the menu, trying to decide whether they should opt for the tasting menu in the next room. "Thanks for coming."

Before Rukia was about to respond to him, Rangiku exclaimed, "Of course! My boss-friend here invited me to come! And I can't believe I get to meet such a high profiled chef." She then noticed the spatial "energy" changing and was hit with an epiphany. "Rukia-chan! Do you know the Kurosaki Ichigo?! Why didn't tell me?" she wailed.

Rukia cocked an eyebrow. "Because you didn't ask?"

Rangiku started wailing.

Ichigo looked at her as if she were crazy and bit back a snort when he saw Rukia trying not to laugh at her poor friend's predicament.

"Abarai-san?" he asked again. "What will it be today?"

Rukia looked at the menu once more and directed her gaze at Rangiku to see what she should like, but she was still dramatically crying, gaining the attention of another chef with the number '69' tattooed on his cheek. She rolled her eyes and looked at Ichigo once more, who gave her a knowing smirk. "Let's go with the tasting menu. It seems very ambitious and hyperseasonal. Are you changing the menus daily?"

Ichigo bit back a smile as he was quite charmed with Rukia; she really was keen and observant. "You could say that. It's just a trial and error. We're trying to see what works and what doesn't. You know, kind of like your research projects. We're trying to optimize everything here. From ingredients to the experience."

After a few more words were exchanged, Ichigo led Rukia and Rangiku to the tasting menu room, where they enjoyed several small, pretty plates.

And each time plates were cleared and/or new plates arrived, Ichigo made sure to be present to explain the food. And to banter with Rukia.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

"So, who's the petite tattoo girl?" Hirako Shinji, Ichigo's sous chef asked. "You two seem to know each other well. Really well, I might add. Thought you just moved to Tokyo a month ago?"

Ichigo and Shinji were sitting on a bench outside of the restaurant, sharing a few bottles of beer for celebratory purposes. It was after 2am, most of the other chefs and waiters were long gone after a successful grand opening.

"She's my neighbor and friend," Ichigo said. And Shinji saw that he was being deliberately vague but didn't pry further.

Instead he said, "I see. So you don't mind if I've fallen in love with her?"

"She's married, Shinji."

"Yeah, but do you _remember_ that, Ichigo?"

Ichigo remained silent for several seconds and he had an urge for a cigarette as his stress levels were increasing again.

"Of course I do. Don't assume anything, Shinji."

"Just checking."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

A week later, Ichigo invited Rukia to his restaurant during after hours to test his "artefactual products." He had a kitchen lab upstairs and wanted her to come up for a session of tasting and feedback. And so they could catch up.

Rukia was observing Ichigo in awe at his rather graceful movements. For such a gruff looking person, he sure was elegant when it came to cooking and handling food. He must have respected the ingredients too much.

She silently snorted.

Ichigo decided to break the ice. "So tell me. Do you have other aspirations aside from the IT Group?"

"Sure," Rukia responded.

Ichigo waited for Rukia to elaborate.

When she didn't, which wasn't surprising as she always found an excuse to test his patience, he asked, "Wanna elaborate on that?"

Rukia popped a piece of "watermelon steak" into her mouth, savoring the lasting effects of the taste and coolness of the "steak" and the answered, "No, not really."

"Come on, Abarai-san…"

Rukia finally conceded, pitying the chef. "Fine, fine. I've always wished I can perhaps publish a short, science fiction manga/novel. Hashtag life goals."

Ichigo blinked, unsure if what she was revealing was truth or fiction. "Really?" Doubt was evident in his voice.

Rukia gave him a bland look. "Food is an art form, so don't judge."

Ichigo raised his eyes in defeat and then offered her a spoon of liquid pea sphere as a peace offering.

She harrumphed at him, but because the pea sphere looked exquisite, she accepted it anyway.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "So why a manga artist? Childhood dream?"

Rukia stared at the delicate spoon of food as if she didn't want do devour such beauty; she ultimately ate it anyway. Food was meant to be eaten. She nodded in approval and savored the taste, complimenting Ichigo in the process. "Yes, you can say that. I've always liked to draw and try to come up with unconventional storylines."

Ichigo processed Rukia's words as if trying to decode her. "Oh I see. So you want to be like those convoluted sci fi manga artists, writers? I guess that's fitting. You're what they describe a hi-tech genius. It all makes sense."

Rukia laughed. "My reasoning of wanting to do something doesn't necessarily equate logic. It's the story that needs to make sense for continuity purposes. I wouldn't want readers flipping out because the story line doesn't flow, you know?"

"I wouldn't know," Ichigo deadpanned.

Rukia scowled at him.

"So what would be the story?" Ichigo asked. He just wanted the night to last a bit longer; plus, the conversation was getting interesting, especially since Rukia barely talked about her personal life.

"I thought you knew it was going to be within the science fiction genre? What else do you need to know?" Rukia deadpanned, firing back at him.

It was his turn to scowl.

Rukia smirked; she got him. "Okay, fine. I'll be concise: a love story set in the future, where technology has completely blurred life and death and organic and inorganic. I would like to examine and provide commentary on how the concepts of emotions, feelings, and I guess love are conceptualized in the near future. Say about fifty years from now. Or, is the Internet a platform for love? As such, how does that change what one would ascribe as human relationships between humans."

The room was silent as Ichigo was once more processing the information Rukia just disclosed. He stopped mixing and stirring and looked at her, seriously. "Not a bad premise. If you make it more like a futuristic Shakespearian story, I'd read it."

Rukia cackled, which annoyed Ichigo. Why couldn't someone like him appreciate the beauty that was Shakespeare?

"I'm serious. If you don't mind my art skills, we can write the story and draw the panels. You know, a friend project."

Rukia stopped cackling and looked at him, thoughtfully. "I'd like that."

They smiled at each other.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

On a Saturday afternoon, Rukia found herself trapped in Ichigo's apartment.

After midnight, Ichigo invited Rukia to his apartment to work on their manga project, titled: _3027_.

It was just a tentative title until they thought of something worthy of the _Shogakukan Manga Award_.

The title was an uninspiring attempt to combine their respective ages, but it seemed to work, so they left it as is.

 _Temporarily_.

Since the IT Group wasn't open on the weekends, Rukia decided to make character designs and storyboards for possible story arcs.

They worked for five hours, two of which consisted of them discussing their own professional projects and it was a time to catch up with each other.

Then they dozed off in Ichigo's guest room until the afternoon, but it was a knock that woke them up.

Shunsui knocked on Ichigo's door and asked if the 'usual crew' could have another progressive dinner party around 8pm.

Ichigo was nervous, but he had to appear calm for Rukia's sake, who hid herself in his and Orihime's room. "You've had like four parties this in the past two weeks, Kyōraku-san. It's the middle of the month. Don't you think it's time for a break?"

Shunsui – a person that had a non-fading smile – laughed. "Oh, Kurosaki-kun! Every day is a party! My parents partied and merrily drank 24/7 in the 60s. I'm just trying to keep their tradition! If it's not much, we would like you to open your apartment for the main course. And as usual, you can plan the menu!"

Ichigo scowled. _Were people this invasive during the swinging 60s?_

"But I'll be at work today from 4pm until closing…" Ichigo reasoned.

"It's fine. Just keep your apartment open! It's safe in this neighborhood!" Shunsui assured.

Ichigo sighed. There was no way out of this. "Fine, but please, stay out of the bedrooms. That's the least you all can do for invading my space while I'm not present."

Shunsui whistled. "Of course! I know the room is off limits. Wink, wink. Thanks, Kurosaki-kun! And don't worry about the main course. We'll order pizza or something!"

Ichigo stared at his landlord in disbelief. "Then why do I have to open my door if I'm not going to cook anything?!"

"It's called a progressive dinner party for some reason. Who knows? I might hire a personal chef tonight for the occasion. Oh, no offense to you, Kurosaki-kun!"

With that, Shunsui went on his merry way.

Ichigo sighed.

And that was how Rukia found herself unable to leave. She was pretty sure Nanao has been noticing her absence lately. She was too observant for her own good.

"I can hear them laughing across the hall. They're starting earlier than usual," Ichigo noted.

Rukia nodded. "I can't even get back to my apartment. Knowing some of their traditionalist views, it would look suspicious if I walked out of your apartment. I don't want rumors starting. I'm so sorry, Chappy."

Ichigo clenched his jaw and tensely said, "But we're not doing anything _wrong_."

" _We_ know that, but _they_ don't. Once words spread through the grapevine, it becomes almost paparazzi-like, uncontrollable and too many self-justifications are used, making one appear guilty. I don't want that for us. Or for our spouses."

Ichigo nodded tensely. "Fine, but the only thing I can think of is for you to stay in here until I return. Can you manage for about eight or so hours?"

"I'll be fine, Kurosaki-kun. I'll most likely read or sleep. No worries. I don't snore."

Although she knew the severity of the situation, she tried to maintain her humor. Ichigo, on the other hand, seemed like he was in a sour mood.

"Fine. I'll leave some water and some food in here, but you won't be able to use the bathroom. Halls are thinly veiled."

"Understood."

 **.**

 **.**

Around 1am, Ichigo rushed home to his apartment and saw that the party was still drinking and playing poker. Though he could tell Nanao looked irritated.

Shunsui asked if he wanted to join the party since they planned to drink all the beer and then return to their apartments, but Ichigo respectfully declined, citing that he was tired from work.

He tried to appear as normal as he could, even as he held two bags full of food.

Nanao's eyes followed Ichigo's form the whole time, but Ichigo didn't notice.

Once Ichigo entered the room, he found Rukia reading one of his books.

Ichigo placed a finger on his lips, informing her to be quiet and turned on his iPod player. Music began to play and the two began to talk and eat.

He was asking her if she was alright. She answered yes.

She was trying to fight the guilt of being in another couple's room, as if ashamed. And he could tell.

 **.**

 **.**

The party finally ended at 5am. Shunsui, as usual, got too drunk and had to be carried by Ukitake and Nanao.

Rukia finally entered her apartment at 5:30am. And her body felt sore from remaining inactive for so long.

Chappy meowed and ran to her.

Rukia picked her up.

And noticed how heavy her heart felt.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Ichigo slept in on Sunday since the restaurant was closed, but his phone woke him up.

He looked at who the caller was: Orihime.

Sighing, Ichigo picked up. "Hey Orihime. How's everything?"

…

"That's good. Too hot over there? Is the weather affecting you?"

…

"Cool. Sounds good."

…

…

"Oh…so you're staying an extra two weeks?"

…

"Orihime, it's okay. Like I said, work comes first for us."

…

"I'm sorry?"

…

"Orihime, I've told you many times. Kuchiki-san and I are just friends."

…

Ichigo sat up as he listened to his wife interrogating him about his and Rukia's relationship. If one could label it as such. For all he knew, Rukia only wanted his friendship, which he respected. But if he was more honest with himself, there were times where he inwardly wished he had met Rukia earlier. Perhaps their futures would have been different. Much different than the present.

He was also cognizant of the fact that he was technically in a non-physical, emotional affair, though it was one-sided.

It was also unrequited.

On his part. And he knew it wasn't right to wish for more.

And he definitely knew it wasn't fair to Renji or Orihime.

"Orihime…"

…

…

"Orihime, I don't understand…she isn't threatening what we have. We're married."

…

"Orihime, I'm not going to say it again. She isn't instigating anything. We happen to be friends and neighbors and have mutual interests. That's why we talk. People can talk to each other."

…

"No, it's okay…don't apologize."

…

"Yeah…I understand…"

…

"Yeah. I love you too. See you soon. Bye."

The call ended and for what might be the first time, Ichigo felt a burning desire.

And the weight that came with it.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Rukia was in the elevator with Nanao, who was lecturing her about how affairs ruin lives and that she was didn't want to be disappointed by Rukia, who she held in the highest regard.

She wasn't sure why she was being lectured in the first place, but people assume.

She also knew that she was right: people were quick to make assumptions when two married people were closely acquainted with each other. That's how society was scripted. It was scripted by people. And the people before them.

She finally had enough. And she was tired of feeding herself with lies, but she didn't want to feed into what Nanao was telling her. It would have proven Nanao's point.

And if she appeared too defensive, she might look guilty to others. Again, that's how society seem to box people. It wasn't fair, but she was emotionally drained.

The elevator doors opened.

She only thanked Nanao coldly and left the elevators.

"Abarai-san, I didn't mean to be harsh, but if neighbors caught wind of this, it will spread like a wildfire. And you won't be able to stop the damage."

Rukia considered her words and without turning she said, "Then that's perhaps the direct outcome of what people created. A culture of damaging words."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Rukia informed Ichigo about Nanao's lecture and the two decided that if Nanao was making such accusations, then perhaps they should meet up at a more private location, even if everything was professional between them.

And innocent.

But people always assume the worst in other people. It was as if it was ingrained to the human psyche.

Rukia mentioned that she owned a condo outside of Tokyo – it was really another research lab where she was able to test things in a more remote space.

The two decided to meet there to work on their manga/story.

As Rukia drove them to her condo, Ichigo's hand accidentally brushed her hand. The sensation was different from when they first shook hands with each other. The spark they felt intensified even more.

Rukia chose to ignore it while Ichigo pondered about it.

For the next week, the two regularly met up every other day, usually around midnight, to work on their project.

They began to feel comfortable with each other and revealed sides to them that no one else knew.

Things not even their spouses knew.

It was the exact moment that Ichigo and Rukia knew things were changing.

And Rukia needed it to stop.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

On a Friday night, Rukia and Rangiku went to a theater that was honoring Jean Luc Godard's films. They opted to watch _Masculin Féminin_ and one line haunted Rukia for the rest of the night.

" _To be faithful is to act like time didn't exist_."

But time did exist for her. For them. For others.

And she thought as the ending credits were rolling, " _Time has me in handcuffs_."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Ichigo was stressed out. It wasn't because of the kitchen, but because Rukia, once again, was ignoring him.

She was presently absent from his life.

He was resolute in his final decision, even it felt cold and brash.

And whispered, " _It's time to progress_."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Two nights later, Ichigo saw Rukia walking to her car.

"Abarai-san!" he called.

The clacking of her cognac penny loafers stopped and she slowly turned around to face him as if expecting this very moment.

Ichigo jogged up to her. "I haven't seen you around lately. Work?"

Rukia breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps she was reading the situation wrong. "Yes work and I've been going to the movies with my friend. I needed some time."

 _Away from you._

Ichigo frowned. His eyebrows furrowed. "Abarai-san, another chef from Seattle asked me if I wanted to help him open up a gastronomic restaurant there. We would be partners…I'll be spending the next three months there. And if all goes well, I'll be traveling back and forth. This is a big opportunity for me."

Rukia smiled. It was a tense smile. "Congratulations, Kurosaki-kun. It is a great opportunity. When will you be leaving?"

"Tomorrow," he simply replied.

"Oh…"

"And I was wondering if you would come with me."

Rukia's eyes widened and stared at him in shock, as if she couldn't believe he just verbally announced that to her.

…

"Abarai-san, I'm…"

Rukia immediately tip-toed and used her hands to cover his mouth, effectively halting him from saying those words.

This was perhaps the most intimate they've ever been.

"Please don't say those words, Kurosaki-kun. They're binding. You'll regret them."

He stared into her eyes with wide eyes. Her violet orbs were glassy. It was the closest thing he's ever seen her to crying.

He shook his head and tenderly pried her hands away from his mouth.

And said those forbidden words.

They stood there, face-to-face with each other, not knowing what the next words would be.

Rukia had to muster up her calmest face to respond to him. "I didn't think we would fall in love with each other."

Ichigo bitterly smiled. "It just happens. We thought we were able to be in control, but these feelings are able to creep in. The Shins said 'caring is creepy,' but it's really the feelings. Feelings are frightening things; they're hard to control. We're ignorant to believe we could control anything, when in reality, we never were capable enough to suppress anything in the first place."

"Kurosaki-kun," Rukia began. "I'm not going to leave Renji."

"I know," Ichigo simply responded. "I just wanted to let you know how I felt. I'm glad it wasn't unrequited."

He handed her a plane ticket. "But if you do change your mind…I know you said you won't leave your husband…but I'll be waiting at your condo. And I think Orihime deserves better than someone like me. And perhaps you made the right choice. I'm leaving my wife…who knows if I'll do the same…to you…"

"…Kurosaki-kun…"

Ichigo shook his head. His heart was breaking, but he needed to be strong for her. He always – will always – respect her. "Abarai-san, let's end this…this mature, almost platonic affair tonight."

Rukia stepped forward.

And for the next several minutes she cried on Ichigo's shoulder as he held her tightly.

.

Ichigo's hands tightly held onto Rukia's as she drove them back to their apartment complex in silence. Both desperately wishing that, for once, time could just stand still for them.

The song that was softly playing had haunting lyrics that seemed fitting for the two.

 _Let me hold your hand once more_

 _The person I've loved…_

 _Will love…_

 _And never loved…_

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

The IT Group was in a middle of a meeting, discussing current and future projects as well as budgets. There was also an announcement that Caltech was interested in hiring one of the researchers at IT as a visiting professor for three years.

But Rukia didn't hear anything as her eyes were glued on the clock.

Time: noon.

He was leaving at 3pm, but she wasn't sure which airline it was.

She wasn't sure what she was going to do.

Trying to refocus on the meeting, Rukia began jotting down notes.

That ended up becoming scribbles.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Ichigo was smoking a cigarette outside of her condo. He checked his phone.

Time: 1:25pm.

Ichigo smiled. It was painful, but it was perhaps the best choice for her.

He wasn't a good person.

But that self-reflection still didn't ease the pain in his heart.

He knew she was going to haunt his memories.

Forever.

And he wouldn't have it any other way. It was his choice. He would always be happy that they've met, even under these controversial circumstances.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Time: 3:03pm.

Rukia sits on the bed of her condo, allowing a lone tear to roll down her right cheek.

And soon streams of tears fell down as she realized that time never waited.

Life doesn't wait for anyone.

People never waited. Feelings fracture.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

and she realized that she was left behind, being burned alive.

* * *

 **End notes:**

 **I understand the Momo-Aizen affair is a trope, especially in the fanfiction community; however, it was fitting. And I thought there were only two more parts to this story, but no. I have the epilogue figured out, but I think I will add in one more part, consisting mostly of Ichigo's perspectives. The song was based on a song that I poorly translated.**

 **And what I am tired of reading two: "Renji and Rukia were childhood friends, knew each other a long time; ergo, they belong together." On the same token, "Inoue was in love with Ichigo forever; ergo, they belong together." Yes, perhaps within the realms of Disney fairy tales. Realistically speaking? Not likely. Oh wait, did Bleach become a fairy tale for happily ever afters (a la Inoue and Renji)? I continuously read how heartbroken Renji and Inoue would be if they didn't end up with Rukia or Ichigo. I think it's quite interesting how fans are projecting Inoue's and Renji's desires when throughout the manga both of their eventual spouses never romantically responded to them. It's like their desires take precedent over Ichigo's and Rukia's feelings, which Kubo never really clearly conveyed.**

 **What I am tired of reading three: "IchiRuki fans are delusional and selectively chose to interpret and read the non-canon poems, color spreads, filler episodes." Much apologies, but it's quite possible had the ending been different – and quite presumptuous of me to assert this – other fans of the other pairing(s) would have created a similar debate/stirring of sorts. So again, please stop the condescending and patronizing comments. It is fine to gloat because that's a part of shipping wars, but is it too much to ask some/one to maintain some perspective? And this is coming from a person who couldn't care less about pairings because ultimately, stories and characters are written through one's perspective and the story itself will most likely be "reclaimed" by other readings/people. Re-imagining is a "trending" practice for that very reason. Isn't that why fanfiction exists? For fans to reclaim elements of the story and characters based on how they've interpreted and, again, re-imagined the ending?**


	5. Chapter 5

**whispers in the candlelight**

* * *

 _Hi, Abarai-san,_

 _Sorry for the lag in responses! I promise to keep in touch more! You really should open up some sort of a social media account instead of relying on email. Hope you and Abarai-kun are doing well. Anyway, I've been busy with my new restaurant concept. Oh, I guess I forgot to mention it in our last exchange, I've decided to ask a good friend from high school to be my partner. I'm sure you've heard of him since he's really famous in Tokyo right now. It's Kurosaki Ichigo, who just opened his flagship restaurant, Zangetsu, in Tokyo back in June._

 _The grand opening will be on October 14th. It might seem rushed, but Ichigo and I have talked about this for years, but he always wanted to remain in Japan to be close to family. Then again, people change their minds, right? You might like the concept, a micro gastronomic restaurant/café. It seems like Ichigo is focusing on elevated, almost futuristic food designs and combinations this time. Interested?_

 _Since you're going to be teaching for a while in the States, maybe you can come? Let me know so I can reserve the best table for you. And of course it will be on the house. My treat. Or if you want to meet up, I'm fine with that. Ichigo is staying at my house. I'm sure you two will get along. Either way, just let me know!_

 _All the best,_

 _Kojima Mizuiro_

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Ichigo was sitting there listening to Mizuiro talk about how great their restaurant design and concept was and how successful it will be in Seattle's food culture.

They were in one of his other restaurants. Mizuiro was a successful restaurateur. Five of his restaurants have been well received and many times he had asked Ichigo if he would like to open up a joint concept/restaurant together. Something that would change the game in the food industry.

Ichigo never wanted to step out of Japan's food institution, but he wanted a change of pace and scenery.

 _With her._

But she didn't want to take the risk with him. He understood and respected her decision. He risked his own marriage in favor of his feelings for a neighbor he's met for only two months. Was it even logical fall in love with someone as opposed to someone who's been with him and by his side for ten years?

No it wasn't.

 _Because love is an irrational feeling._

Since he left Tokyo, thoughts of her continued to creep in. Whether he unconsciously or consciously intended for her memories to remain ingrained in his heart and mind was not significant; it was his feelings he questioned.

And he could answer both his heart and mind: he really loves her.

And she loved him, too, but she was too pessimistic about their futures to risk anything in her present.

The thought continuously tugged his heartstrings, but he told himself that whatever she chose, it was the correct choice.

He was being selfish. She wasn't. She thought of _others_. Pushing away her feelings for the other two.

Ichigo wanted to smile. It was just like her to do that.

And that was a glaring difference between them: she was emotionally strong; he wasn't.

"So what made you change your decision, Ichigo?" Mizuiro promptly asked.

Ichigo remained quiet for a few seconds. "A change in future directions," was his vague answer.

Mizuiro was always a perceptive person. He was absolutely sure that something must have happened – something significant - for Ichigo to change his mind. He loved experiencing the multitudes of food cultures from the globe, but to actually live in the States for six months? It was out of character for him to do so; not to mention Zangetsu hasn't been opened for a year yet. And he was recently married…

"What about Inoue…I mean Kurosaki-san?" he probed, 'theories' already forming in his head.

Ichigo didn't answer immediately and Mizuiro knew his answer wasn't going to be good.

He waited patiently while Ichigo closed his eyes.

"We're getting divorced."

"Why?"

"Reality came crashing down." Another simple yet vague explanation.

 _She came into my life._

Mizuiro left it at that.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _"What is up with you and moons?" he asked as they were working on their character designs and names._

 _"There's no logical reason for liking moons. I've just always liked them," she said._

 _"I saw that you had a copy of the single of Savage Garden's 'To the Moon and Back.' Is that the reason?" he teased._

 _He saw how her cheeks turned pink and thought she looked rather endearing in the moonlight._

 _"No, you idiot. It's the very same reason why you like sunsets. And I don't assume that your favorite song is 'Pretty Mary Sunlight,'" she fired back._

 _He scowled._

 _"You just like them because they – the sun or moon – shows that something so simple can bring you a sense of peaceful solitude or happiness."_

 _He looked at the window. The glow of the moon tonight was brilliant._

 _He could now see it._

 _And her._

 _Wasn't she like the moon?_

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

"Light."

Mizuiro looked up from the table. For the past hour, they were discussing potential restaurant names. Something catchy. Something trendy, worthy of a hashtag on Twitterverse.

Ichigo sighed as he tightened his hold on his beer bottle. "Our restaurant's name. Can it be 'light?'"

Mizuiro looked skeptical. That was probably one of the most generic words and the broadest. Light? Lightbulb? "Why lights, Ichigo?"

"Light, in all lowercase letters. It might seem generic, but we can go to one of your interior designer friends and ask them to install or wire in some neat looking lightbulbs or something. It would definitely look postmodern. Isn't that trending these days?"

Mizuiro could have fallen from his chair! When was Ichigo following postmodernism? In fact, didn't he hate the so called postmodern theorists during his first semester in college?

"It's also in honor of someone." Of course he kept the actual, personal rationale vague.

Mizuiro saw a faraway look in his friend's eyes again. "Okay, that actually does sound like a good idea. We'll go with 'light.'"

 _In a sense, she was my ray of light._

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

After a couple of beers at the bar, Ichigo randomly asked if Mizuiro believed in erasing memories.

Mizuiro wasn't sure what to think of Ichigo's current odd behavior. Was it the divorce? "Do you mean like those odd sci fi crack theories? Like from that Jim Carey and Kate Winslet film, _Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind_? Um, that's bizarre right?"

Ichigo took a drag from his cigarette and considered his friend's thoughts. "I guess that's similar to what I'm thinking about, but what I'm really trying to get at is methods of attempting to erase painful memories, even for placebo effects."

"Um, I've always been pretty happy with my memories, Ichigo. So when I go to sleep, please don't try anything," Mizuiro said.

Ichigo had to laugh at his friend. It was the first time that he laughed freely since that day.

Taking another drag, Ichigo revealed, "Someone once told me that if you want to reveal a secret but you don't want to verbally do so in fear of letting the words out, then you could get a bottle, fill it with water, whisper in it, and then throw the bottle so your secret shatters. Not only is it therapeutic, but at least you've shared your secret with nature – the world. And the memories created from those secrets will eventually disappear."

Mizuiro wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to criticize it, as crazy as it sounds.

"Ichigo…what happened?" he asked. He intentionally left out the other part: " _to you_."

"Life happened. And I couldn't make everyone happy with my choices," Ichigo simply answered.

That moment, Mizuiro finally felt Ichigo's pain and longing for someone. Who was most likely not his wife.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Ichigo and Mizuiro were talking to the interior designers and finalizing the details.

The phone rang.

Seeing that Mizuiro was busy talking, rather intimately, with one of the interior designers, Ichigo ran to the counter to answer. At least the restaurant's landline was working.

Clearing his throat and trying to muster his best phone etiquette, he clearly said, "light restaurant. This is Kurosaki Ichigo speaking. How can I help you?"

He first heard static.

"Hello?"

Then he heard soft breathing.

"Hello?"

Then he heard a surprised "Kuro…"

Then all was quiet.

Until he heard that the line went dead on the other side.

Ichigo stopped breathing for a moment as he stared at the phone in his hand.

"Ichigo? Who was it?"

No it couldn't be _her_ , right?

A lot of news outlets and social media already knew about his joint restaurant with Mizuiro. It was apparently worthy of international news reporting. Someone must have called for a reservation.

That still didn't ease the excitement he felt a moment ago.

 _Even when she wasn't present in my life, the mere mentioning of her makes me feel - alive._

"Ichigo?"

"There was no answer."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Mizuiro stared at his longtime friend from college at a nearby dim sum restaurant.

She looked lifeless. Robotic even. That wasn't supposed to be a dig at her profession either. She really looked like a mechanical entity. That or something made her dead in the inside.

And because she was one of the hardest people to read, he wasn't able to 'theorize' what was currently going through her mind. He was sure it didn't have anything to do with her husband as Renji called him to let him know that Rukia was visiting him in Seattle. He even helped her move to Pasadena several weeks ago.

"I'm surprised to see you this soon, Abarai-san. I mean you already made reservations," he began.

Rukia blinked once and smiled. It was almost too cold – even for her. "I attended a conference three days ago in Portland and decided on a whim to get on a train to visit you. Got a problem with that?"

She was still a bit scary calm. "Ah! Of course not! It's just that had I known beforehand, I would have introduced you to Ichigo."

Rukia blinked a few times. And for the first time since they've been sitting at the restaurant, Mizuiro noticed that her eyes went from dull to full of life.

"How is he? Kurosaki-kun?" she asked, though a bit hesitantly.

He was surprised that she knew him, especially since Ichigo never mentioned her at least once. "You know Ichigo?"

There seems to be a pattern with silence being his friend's preferred method of responses these days, he thinks.

"Yes, he was one of my neighbors when he was still living in Tokyo." Rukia's eyes, Mizuiro noticed, had a faraway, almost longing look in them. She also asked, "Is he not returning to Tokyo? Zangetsu is still doing well. Rumor has it that he might be awarded a Michelin star."

Mizuiro nodded. "Yeah, I've heard that. Not from Ichigo, though. That guy keep things to himself. It's like he's full of secrets." He chuckled, missing Rukia's guilty face. "But I think he will return to Tokyo at some point. I mean his flagship restaurant is there and I'm pretty sure he misses Japan. I think he's just waiting until the storm dies down."

He noticed Rukia's interested face, but she was never one to pry. But he was going to tell her anyway.

"He and Kurosaki-san, well I guess Inoue-san now, are getting a divorce. I think he'll return to Japan once the divorce becomes old news." Mizuiro wasn't sure why Rukia had a flash of hurt and guilt on her face, but just as he was quick to notice it, the emotions quickly disappeared.

Instead of progressing the conversation into gossip, the two ate in silence.

Until Rukia asked if she could maybe see Ichigo.

Mizuiro was more than willing to oblige. In fact, he wanted the two to reunite, though he wasn't sure how close they were/are, he's sure they would become good friends. Actually, they were more similar when it came to personalities...

"Of course, Abarai-san," he smoothly answered. "I'm sure Ichigo will be happy to see you again."

For the first time that night, her face showed hope.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Ichigo came back after his trip to the nearby coffee shop. That and for some reason, Mizuiro's electricity went out. It happened after he started to draw the first chapter's story panels. Rather than waiting for the electricity to turn itself back on, Ichigo decided to work at the neighborhood coffee shop.

The electricity was back on and he saw Mizuiro talking on his cellphone. Most likely the interior designer they met days ago. The two have been on three dates in total. How he had found the time to do so was beyond Ichigo's comprehension.

Rolling his shoulders, Ichigo went into his room. It was then he noticed that something was missing from his desk. Panicking, he started looking for the object.

Mizuiro could hear noises coming from the guestroom. And a lot of expletives.

"Ichigo?" he called.

This might be one of the few times Mizuiro witnessed a look of panic on Ichigo's face. His face usually consisted of half smiles, scowls, and frowns. Well, he also looked annoyed a lot. And he did look nervous during his wedding…

"Mizuiro, did you come in and rearrange some furniture? Did you accidentally take something and throw it out?" Ichigo asked, still in a state of panic.

Mizuiro looked confused. "No, I haven't been in your room at all today. I've been talking on the phone ever since…"

He stopped, remembering his friend's words.

 **.**

 _"Thanks for everything, Mizuiro. I'll see you on October 14th." Rukia gave him a quick smile and shook his hand._

 _Before she boarded her train to Portland, she turned and rigidly said, "Please don't tell Kurosaki-kun I was here." After a while she added, "I'll see him when I come to your grand opening of…what's the name of the restaurant?"_

 _"light? Odd name, I know, but Ichigo said it was to honor someone," Mizuiro said with a smile._

 _Rukia nodded and smiled. "light…there's something poetic about it."_

.

"Mizuiro?!"

He stopped daydreaming and once again saw Ichigo's panicked face. "Sorry…I was out for most of the day, but no one entered your room, Ichigo."

Ichigo looked around the room again, desperate in locating that one object.

"Are you missing something Ichigo?"

Ichigo stilled his body for a minute and muttered a no and an apology to his friend.

As he closed his door, he noticed a black sketchbook on his bed.

He picked it up and turned to the first page. The contents made his eyes widen.

 _3027: Love Assemblages of the Future._

 _Character designs and story by Ichigo and Rukia._

.

.

.

 _After lighting up some candles, Mizuiro had to answer an 'important' call and asked Rukia to make herself feel comfortable._

 _Holding the candle tightly, Rukia hesitantly entered Ichigo's room. She was disappointed and also relieved to see that he wasn't home._

 _There were so many things to be said. But in the end, they were going to be left unsaid._

 _On his temporary desk, she saw her silver Fisher Space Pen._

 _So that's where it went. She must have left it after being confined in Ichigo's room that night during the progressive dinner party._

 _She smiled bitterly._

 _Thoughts of whether she made the right decision continued to haunt her. After she missed her chance of being with him in Seattle, she thought that the feelings would slowly disappear. They were close, yes, but shouldn't those feelings fade by now? Or were their mutual feelings for each other too unbreakable? Do they continue to linger? For a person who just moved in for two months?_

 _Or was it alright to think that had they encountered each other in the past everything would be different?_

 _Or did she care too much about social scripts when they, in fact, never did anything wrong?_

 _Right and wrong, she didn't know anymore. Nothing made sense. Values and beliefs were all relative._

 _What she can blame is herself._

 _She placed her pen in her purple tote and left something else behind._

 _This might be it._

 _The farewell._

 _Bye, Ichigo. Be well._

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

That night, Ichigo finally decided to read the contents of the sketchbook.

He slowly turned to the next page and realized that she had pages of character designs, storylines, and a potential ending.

He read her notes and painfully realized that his own future was uncertain.

 _Tentative ending 1: The future, where technology continues to blur the distinctions between bodies and other variables that attempted to restore hope, was never meant to be a happy one. Feelings entered into the machine malfunctioned. Feelings wavered. And lingered. Things end. Just as the two predicted._

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

After reading and rereading their manga, he didn't know what to do. The message was clear to him.

It was a farewell gift. Their story will never be published. They were at a standstill.

He went outside to sit on the steps, with a beer bottle in hand. Of course the moon was shining brilliantly again.

He looked at his beer bottle and although it was perhaps infantile of him, he decided to do it.

He whispered his deepest, selfish secrets to the bottle.

.

.

 _"I love Rukia. I wished that time would reverse itself and she decided to come with me to create our destiny."_

.

.

He threw the bottle and it shattered into fragments. Now nature and the world knew his secret.

But his mother was wrong. The memories remained.

In the end, he couldn't burn his memories of her.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

but it takes one burn to remember and for that he was glad.

* * *

 **End notes:**

 **An intentional fragmented chapter. That bottle thing is influenced from _In the Mood for Love_ and a Miriam Yeung and Louis Koo movie, but I cannot for the life of me remember the title.**

 **Here's some of the answers that might address some of the reviewers' questions:**

 **I wanted Rukia and Renji to be the definition of a hipster couple. It's a stereotype (tattoos do not equate to hipsters; I understand). I always thought Renji's character design was quite cool with all those bold tribal tattoos. He even looks cool in the color spreads. I shallowly follow fashion trends and project that onto my characterization of Rukia.**

 **I try to be subtle in stories, but in many cases, I've failed. Though I didn't write many interactions between the couples, I tried to give hints on how observant Renji and Orihime are based on how their respective spouses interacted with the main duo. Also, Nanao's character should have been a red flag. And at the height of a technological culture, I'm sure information gets leaked out. Again, I failed, but had I droned on the IT Group more, there would have been parallelisms on how Rukia's profession within the technology field is as intrusive as is something simple as a "home space" where people enter in and out. (A failed metaphor? Absolutely.) Grapevine. People. (Tele)phones. The Internet. All similar when it comes to un/intentional intrusion.**

 **Lastly, I must apologize to Gin. To retain the flow of this story, it's not going to be a happy ending; maybe bittersweet? Epilogue will be posted sometime.**


	6. Chapter 6

**epilogue: ashes of time**

* * *

The yellow taxi stops, most likely due to a series of traffic jams.

Ichigo thanks the taxi cabbie, pays him, and gets out of the car. It's been three years and Tokyo, culturally, simultaneously seems foreign and familiar.

One thing hasn't changed: the IT Group building. Its building continues to stand tall within Tokyo's cityscapes.

He contemplates for a bit on whether he should see if she's there or not, but according to the news, she's been teaching at Caltech as a visiting professor. Maybe she wouldn't be there.

And he's purposely delaying their meeting, even if there is an instant urge to see if she remembers him.

 _And what could have been._

His feelings for her never wavered.

He sighs as the taxi drives forward; his eyes never straying from the building.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Ichigo looks at the unchanging complex and enters. In the elevator, he anxiously taps his foot, unsure whether he was ready for any confrontations or reunions.

He shares the elevator with a two other people, both holding onto a moving dolly full of boxes.

Someone's moving in today.

Ichigo lets them get out of the elevator first and sees that three doors down from her _unit_ , someone has co-opted two units, and was moving in.

And Ukitake was supervising the movers until he saw Ichigo. "Kurosaki-kun! When did you return to Japan?" asks a surprised Ukitake.

"Exactly three hours ago," Ichigo replies. He then gifts Ukitake an exclusive bottle of wine from his restaurant, thanking him for his hospitality from years before. "Where's Kyōraku-san and…Ise-san? I brought them another bottle."

"Ah, thank you for your kindness, Kurosaki-kun," Ukitake says. "Shunsui and Nanao went on a business trip together. I'm not sure when they'll be back. Shunsui ask that I take over Katen Kyokotsu."

Ichigo didn't know what else to say, so he chose to remain silent. But as of late, he just wanted to know something. Whether _she's_ still living here.

Ukitake predicted as much. "Kurosaki-kun...Nanao always wanted to apologize…to you and Rukia. But before she was able to, Rukia already left for the States. She had no right to make you both feel guilty when all of us knew you two were just closely acquainted..."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Ukitake stops as Ichigo shakes his head. "It's fine, Ukitake-san. I've moved on. Everyone moved on." That burning desire to know about her current whereabouts lingers as he stares at her old(?) unit.

Ukitake follows his line of gaze and before he was able to say anything else, fits of violent coughing overcame him.

Ichigo tells him to go rest and they will catch up another time and hands him the other bottle of wine, telling him to keep it for Shunsui.

He exits Ukitake's unit and stands in front of _her_ old unit.

As he leaves, he notices a couple exiting out of the unit. But it wasn't _them_.

Disappointed, he asks the couple what happened to the other couple/tenants.

"They moved out a long time ago."

Though sadness and disappointment were evident in his eyes, he smiles as he looks at _her_ former door.

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

Two people were loudly arguing over a cat.

"Give me the cat!" yells the female.

"Absolutely not! Such a cute creature shouldn't be handled by a vulgar woman!" screams the male.

Rukia takes off her ear plugs and rolls her eyes.

 _Good lord_. _Sentarō and Kiyone_ _have not changed. Still so obsessive and jealous over who gets to take care of Chappy. Or Ukitake-sensei for that matter._

She shudders and then tells the two, "Hey, you two! Stop yelling! You're scaring Chappy." She then sweetly changes her tone, "Come here, Chappy. Don't let the crazies eat you."

 _Pyon!_

Chappy immediately run and jumps into Rukia's waiting hands and snuggles with her.

She looks at Sentarō and Kiyone as they argue again. They're now debating who's the crazier of the two.

Rukia shakes her head and then walks out to the hallway as she talks to the movers.

She moved back here after her three-year contract ended at Caltech. While she enjoyed Pasadena, Japan was her home. Tokyo, even if it was a spatial location full of painful memories, was a place where she could always return to.

She sighs.

There were many instances where the desire to see _him_ was so strong that she almost disavowed everything, wanting to fly back to Seattle to see if there was still a chance. An opportunity for _them. Their future._ But in the end, she was able to, once again, control those urges.

She looks at her sleepy cat and smiles, placing a kiss on her nose.

After supervising the movers, she walks out of the two conjoined units and walks to the hallway, staring at a few doors down, where _he_ used to live.

And smiles, reflecting back on what wasn't, could've been, and what never was.

Such is life; full of double standards, stringencies, pretenses, hidden despairs, and oxymorons.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Rukia decides to walk to the underground jazz bar to meet her colleagues and friends. They insisted on celebrating their boss' return. She doesn't know why as she visited Tokyo frequently during the holidays and she was practically living on Skype, specifically for Rangiku.

She then stops as she sees his restaurant, surprised that it was closed so early in the night.

Was it early?

She looks at her phone: 7pm.

She reads the note on the door: _Closed today for staff celebration. Will resume regular hours next week._

Staff celebration?

Was it someone's birthday?

…

Or did _he_ …

Rukia's heart skips a beat.

…return?

 ** _._**

 ** _._**

 ** _._**

Rukia descends down the stairs, but bumps into the person climbing up the stairs.

As she steps down, she stares at the person and her eyes widen.

 **.**

 **.**

Ichigo decides to leave the group for a bit for some much needed fresh air as the environment and smoke were suffocating him.

As he walks up, he stares down at the person and furiously blinks in disbelief.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

The duo continues to stare at each other, each experiencing a different sensation at seeing each other again – at this very spot – after three years.

His eyes drop down and it was that exact moment that he could feel his heart rate accelerating at a dangerous rate. A stirring sensation he was devoid of for so long.

She was ring-less.

Did that mean…?

Did destiny give him – _them_ – another chance?

 **.**

 **.**

Her eyes never let his face. Her lifeless, almost robotic eyes of the past three years suddenly held a miniscule spark of emotion. A sensation that was concealed the moment she signed her divorce papers.

She finally lowers her gaze; her attentive eyes widen even more as she sees a tattoo. His only tattoo, it seems.

A small, yet bold black crescent moon near his wrist.

Did that mean…?

He was like a stranger yet a familiar face that had vanished from her conscious. Or maybe he never really vanished from her heart.

She continues to stare at his eyes and is able to discern the subtle message swirling around those deep irises:

 _All that time, frozen. As though he was able to control the speed of time, he felt that he had the power to crush destiny; a destiny that was set in crushing them. His past becomes blurred with his present and future. Saved memories. Of her._

 **.**

 **.**

He stares at her despondent eyes and painfully sees:

 _She recognizes that their time vanished. The clock rotates itself continuously. That she was the one who decided that she would become the rotator. The speed of time progresses. And that moving time forward was the(ir) best option. Never returning. But time winds itself back, starting anew. For him._

 **.**

 **.**

"Did…did you call me… _Rukia_?"

"That was a long time ago, _Ichigo_."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

time becomes nothing more than the ashes they left behind.

fin.

* * *

 **End notes:**

 **Intentionally written in the present.**

 **The ending is heavily influenced by another great, visual poet, Wong kar-wai, who ended the film with such a haunting caption. Well, this entire story was influenced by his film. He also directed a wuxia movie called _Ashes of Time_ and I thought it would be a fitting title for an epilogue. **

**I am not sure when _Midnight Library_ will be updated because I'm really busy and I don't want to make any promises. I really shouldn't have been working on this story, but fiction writing is great for free writes. And it never fails to amaze me that reviews are a platform for condescending, uninspiring remarks, but I guess technology provides that very platform for anonymity, without the wittiness or intellectual depths that are the so called traces of human nature. **

**Thank you for reading.**

 **Much gratitude.**


End file.
